


Make a Wish

by prosodiical



Category: Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them (Movies)
Genre: Birthday Fluff, M/M, Post-Movie 1: Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-24
Updated: 2018-02-24
Packaged: 2019-03-23 14:20:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,782
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13789530
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/prosodiical/pseuds/prosodiical
Summary: It's Newt's birthday, not that he's remembered, and it doesn't help that Graves's idea of a present is a new lead on a case.





	Make a Wish

Winter, slowly, starts to fade.

Newt's spent longer in New York than he ever planned to, longer in one place than he thought he would. Even with his novel, scratching out the last few edits before he sends it back to his publisher again, there's something restless itching at his fingers sometimes, a wanderlust he's not sure he can hide. He's been consulting for MACUSA for the last two months and though he appreciates the funding and freedom, being able to help their misguided laws along, he's not here for that.

Perhaps he wouldn't be content to stay here, in a city largely unsuited to him, if it weren't for Percival Graves.

Newt feels terribly embarrassed at how obvious he must be about it all, but he can't quite help the way his pulse skips at Graves's touches and smiles. It had only been a week after he left New York, just long enough for him to meet with his publisher and an owl to wing its way across the ocean, before a letter from Tina had him on a steamship back: he'd accidentally left his niffler behind. The exasperating creature had wormed its way through Newt's locks again and by the time he'd arrived again on America's shores, into Graves's office after saving him; "It saved me," Graves told Newt, there, "keeping it safe for you was the least I could do."

Newt's stuttered apology was at least half thanks to the embarrassment curling in his chest, the flush on his cheeks from Graves's handsome smile.

Really, he can't be fooling anyone, least of all himself. It's only gotten worse since he's started on cases that require Graves's presence more often than not, his latest helping track down an illegal export of wampus hair to its source. They've spent the last few days poring over information and what little they'd gotten from MACUSA's seers, working long into the night until it's only been Newt and Graves, knees bumping under the table, something like understanding in Graves's eyes. 

But today is different from the outset when Newt arrives at MACUSA. Graves rises to his feet as soon as Newt opens the conference room door, already starting to pull on his coat. "You have your case, yes?"

Newt lifts his case a little, and says, tentatively, "Yes? Are we - "

"We have a lead," Graves says, and tilts his head at the door. Newt takes a quick step back and lets him pass, then follows him to the Apparition point, Graves's coat flaring as he strides down the hall. "I don't think it'll come to curses, but you've said the wampuses are probably still alive there somewhere, so - "

"Oh," Newt says, "yes, of course. The Aurors?"

"Like I said," Graves says, as they step into the room and he takes Newt's arm, "it shouldn't come to curses."

Newt's startled thought - _just us?_ \- doesn't have time to be voiced as he's Side-Alonged away. They land in a dimly-lit alleyway not helped by the heavy weight of clouds in the sky, and Newt peers up at it to check for stray thunderbirds as Graves casts a set of charms over them both. His footsteps are muffled against the stone as he heads to the apartment building across the way, and Newt waits for his brief gesture before he follows him over and through the door.

There's a space-expansion charm, or something like it, on the room; they're ejected into a corridor that stretches far and dark. No, Newt realises as he lights his wand with a wordless spell, it must be something like a transport ward instead, as they're in a basement of some sort, at least a few feet underground. Graves's soft, "Careful," is muffled not only by the walls but the ground pressing in around them, and Newt's happy to follow his lead as he takes them down the path.

His fingers are clutched tight on his case, ready on his wand. Graves still seems largely unconcerned, and Newt's reminded of the ease of his spells, the wandless magic he summons with a thought. He must be staring at the back of Graves's head, at the flattering stretch of his coat across his back; Graves turns and raises his eyebrows at him, and Newt feels his face warm as he shakes his head and drags his gaze away to the hall.

That's when he notices the faint light ahead. Newt extinguishes his with a hurried _nox_ and Graves pulls him close, his grip firm but not tight on Newt's arm, into an alcove in the stone. There's no sound for a long, quiet moment but Newt's heartbeat in his ears, his breath tight in his chest, no sight but the loose fall of Graves's hair, less pristine than it usually is as though he didn't have time to spell it neat. "I think," Newt starts, low, and Graves lifts his fingers to Newt's mouth. Newt stops, silent, his heart pounding with less fear than strange tension, and he can only hope the warmth in his face is hidden in the shadows of the dark. Graves is close enough Newt can feel his body's heat, the awkward press of his elbow to Newt's side.

He hears the footsteps a moment later, the light Graves must have seen over his shoulder: a single wizard, holding up a lit wand. Graves's spells work their magic and the wizard passes them carelessly by, and Newt can only watch the reflection of him in Graves's dark eyes. It's a few seconds, then, before Graves drops his hand and lifts his head slightly to meet Newt's eyes, and Newt wets his lips reflexively as he watches Graves's gaze fall to them for a moment that stretches on. Newt's the one who steps back, the loss of Graves's intoxicating warmth like a douse of cold water to his thoughts, and he looks back to the room the wizard headed to as Graves quietly clears his throat and pulls out his wand.

For all the secrecy, Graves ends the entire situation by striding nonchalantly into the better-lit room. The wizards - only two - are clearly startled by him, but they barely manage a curse before Graves has disarmed them with a swift jerk of his wand. "You're under arrest," Graves says, and Newt's gaze is drawn immediately to the cage in one corner, two underfed wampuses missing patches of fur snarling against the bars, golden eyes alight.

He loses track of Graves, then. Approaching wampuses is best done with a clear mind and a firm set of goals, and Newt thinks of his case and the new habitat that's replaced his Arizona sky, another segment of an American landscape with mountains extending out as far as his spells can go. "It's all right," he says, his voice steady and soothing, and meets their yellow gazes only briefly as he waits for them to calm.

They come to him, eventually, after some slow coaxing out of the cage, and slip into his case with all the aloofness of their kind. Newt exhales as he straightens and he's already thinking of nutrition plans and feeding schedules when he sees Graves there, absently flicking through their haphazard paperwork as though he's been waiting for Newt to be done. "Thank you, Mr Scamander," Graves says, his mouth set in a familiar, lovely half-smile, and Newt feels a rush of warmth for him, just as familiar as his probably-besotted smile.

"No," Newt says, quickly, "thank you - I was worried about how they were doing, and a few more days... it was fortunate we found them now."

"Not entirely fortune," Graves says, and glances away for a moment, to the walls stripped bare, before he shuffles the papers in his hands and slips them into his coat. He clears his throat and Newt glances at him, curious, as he shifts on his feet and his mouth firms. "Do you have plans this evening?"

"Do you need me at MACUSA?" Newt asks. "I should check on the wampuses to make sure they're settled in, but I can come in later if you need - ah, permit... applications?" He seems to be on the wrong track entirely as Graves peers at him for a moment, eyebrows furrowing. "Or..."

"For your birthday," Graves says.

Newt realises, rather abruptly, he has no idea what day it is. "It's...?"

"Merlin's beard," Graves mumbles, and covers his face with his palm. "I asked you two days ago what you would like."

Newt pauses. He remembers, now - Graves's teasing smile, the way he'd barely managed to say something, flustered, in reply. "That was - for my birthday? But - " _A breakthrough_ , Newt had answered, as he looked back at their work, the jars of wampus hairs they'd managed to confiscate. _So no more of these poor creatures they've captured will die._ "Have you been working overtime?"

Graves says, "Don't give me that, Scamander, you've been putting in more hours than you should," but he's looking at Newt with an intensity that makes him feel terribly warm, the curl to his smile practically fond.

"Well," Newt says, and ducks his head, unable to help his smile. "it was a lovely present. Thank you."

"You didn't even know what I was talking about," Graves says wryly, and steps forward, just once. Newt glances at him through his eyelashes and Graves raises an eyebrow at him. "So, Mr Scamander. Do you have plans tonight?"

"I," Newt says. "If you have something in mind..."

"I do," Graves says. "Dinner, on me."

Newt wonders if he's misreading the focused intent in Graves's eyes, and then Graves steps in closer, sets his hand on Newt's arm. His eyes are dark, and Newt manages, flustered, "Is this a - "

"Yes," Graves says, "a date."

He's close enough to kiss, but he steps back in the breath of time it takes for Newt to think it, lifting Newt's hand instead as he presses his lips to the back of it. Newt's mouth goes dry and says, "I - Mr Graves - "

Graves lets his hand go. Newt can still feel the phantom touch of his mouth on his skin. "Yes?"

"I - don't really celebrate it, you know," Newt says, almost giddy with the urge to smile. "But if you don't mind waiting for the wampuses to settle in - "

"You're not getting out of the paperwork," Graves says, "but I'll pick you up. Tonight, at six." He looks over Newt for a moment, and his gaze lingers long enough Newt feels flushed and warm. "You can bring your case."

Newt says, "I - of course," and, "thank you."

"Happy birthday," Graves says, and steps forward and kisses him, chaste and perfectly sweet.

**Author's Note:**

> Happy 121st birthday to our favourite magizoologist, Newt Scamander ♥
> 
> If you want to chat about these dorks you can find me [on tumblr](https://prosodiical.tumblr.com/)!


End file.
